Every Dog Has Its Day: An Omnibus of Wolfpack Short Stories
by ChrissiHR
Summary: This is an omnibus of my wolfpack one-shots and other related works of short duration. Pre-reader: meliz875, Pairing: varies. Includes my newest J/B o/s, "Daddy's Girl No More", 1st Place - Tie, Tricky Raven's 2014 Anonymous Valentine's Day contest, Book of Love; and "Holidaze", a P/B o/s that took 1st Place in the 2013 Tricky Raven's Christmas Contest for Authors and Artists.
1. Ch1: Yours, Mine, Ours, Orig OS

_What follows is the original one-shot-no edits, no revision. This one-shot essentially stands alone without the revisions for the multi-chapter fic. The solution to the mystery wolf riddle, however, remains the same and can be found in chapter 2 of the multi-chapter fic._

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**Yours, Mine, Ours** **by ChrissiHR  
Rated: ** MA/NC17**  
Warnings: ** For mature audiences only. Strong Sexual Content and Language**.  
Pre-reader: ** **SuperGirl-Gem  
Summary:** AU, 3 years post-New Moon, no cliff-jump, no suicide trip to Italy to save Sparky Sparklenuts, in a perfect world where the Cullens sparkle magnificently somewhere other than Washington. Bella's drawn a lot closer to some of the pack, made lifelong friends, but these boys don't share well. Wolves are territorial even on their best of days.

**Disclaimer:** SM owns. I don't own shit.

Pairing: Bella/Unnamed Wolf

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I heard the distinctive rumble that heralded her arrival on the rez. Everyone knew that sound. The other wolves could hear it for miles. There was no way to conceal her presence this time. Everyone knew she was coming home from school for the weekend anyway. She loved autumn in La Push too much not to come home for at least one long weekend in October.

We were taking a hell of a chance meeting in secret on the rez as it was, but with that racket her truck made, there was no way her _other_ wolf wouldn't come looking for her when she didn't turn up at his house within minutes of passing over the border this afternoon.

I couldn't be sure if she wanted to get caught or just didn't care anymore, but I knew for certain this was her way of upping the ante. I could hear her voice now, laughing, "Your move, asshole."

That's what you get for baiting one of your best friends; the girl you want to fuck.

I phased back and licked my lips in anticipation, not bothering to pull my shorts on while I waited for her to crest the hill. No point putting them on only to have to take them off again. I might not have those seconds to spare today. We'd have to make the most of our very little time this afternoon before the bonfire on the beach below tonight.

I stroked myself impatiently, keeping an eye out for the hoodie- and jean-clad figure to round the trailhead above the cliffs as usual for her illicit fix. She surprised me this time, though.

It was an unusually warm fall day and she took advantage; tiny denim cutoffs, barely-there, navy bikini, long silver necklace dangling invitingly between the soft, swaying swells of her breasts. She wore one of my old dark green hoodies, but it dangled down her arms. Caught in the crooks of her elbows, she wore it like a shawl, her shoulders bare, sleeves only pulled up far enough to keep it from falling off. Eighteen year old Bella would never have dreamed of wearing the rest of that in public. The bikini, the fucking cutoffs, her bikini bottoms peeking out at the juncture of her thighs.

Never had I been so glad that a girl was twenty-one and more than of-age.

She had her hiking boots on, too, and a pair of thick, padded boot socks drawn up her slender calves almost to her knees. She knew herself well enough not to risk the short hike from the truck in anything but the appropriate footwear.

"Fuck. Is it wrong that I want to strip you down and bend you over so I can fuck you in nothing but those ugly ass boots?"

Her rich laugh peeled delicately over the hilltop like birdsong as she approached, "Aww . . . you _did_ miss me, or did you just miss playing groin-tag in the woods?"

I snorted, then got my first good look at her since she left for school again in August. Had it only been seven weeks?

Her hair was down, the wind blowing soft mahogany tendrils across her milky, rounded shoulders. The contrast between the light and dark made my mouth water. It reminded me of the contrast between our skin tones as I watched my burnished, bronze cock disappear into her petal pink pussy the last time I fucked her.

"You sure you still want to do this, babe?" I asked, giving her one last chance to back out before we got caught for sure this time. "You know he heard your truck. He'll come looking for you any second now."

She nodded, wrapping her arms around my waist, "This is the last time, though. You'll have to be quick. I don't want to hurt him and you aren't making me any promises either."

"You know I'll never imprint. Even if I do, I'll fight it. I don't want that shit any more than anybody else. You saw what that shit did to Lee. Some bland milksop Quileute princess chosen by Taha Aki who needs to be cuddled and treasured and doted on? Fuck, no. I won't be collared. As for your other concerns, babe, I'm known for being thorough, not quick. Do my best," I promised.

"That'll have to do," she nipped the underside of my chin and moaned into my throat, "Mmm . . . mine."

My wolf snarled and gnashed his teeth. Fuck _him_, her _other_ wolf. She was _ours_; me and my wolf.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and shoved the other hand down the front of the nearly nonexistent shorts.

Fuck, _so wet_.

I closed my eyes, pausing in surcease, the wolf and I reveling in the sweet, honeyed scent of her arousal as it billowed around us, stroking her slick folds with a gentle squeeze to either side of her clit.

Her breath hitched and she began to unravel.

I reached for the snap at the front of her shorts. She grabbed my hand and attacked my mouth with teeth and tongue, rasping between breaths, "No time."

I picked her up instead, legs around my waist, and pushed aside the stiff denim and slick lycra between her thighs.

I stroked her damp folds with a blunt fingertip, but she stopped me again, "Rough; I want the wolf this time. Give me your wolf."

He came roaring to the surface. I fought the phase, bones cracking, sinews snapping, muscles rippling beneath the thinnest layer of skin; he could kill her if I lost control.

Gazing upon her luscious curves for the first time in my human form, but through the eyes and mind of the wolf, I buried myself inside her without thought, without preparation, and stopped. It almost killed us to stop.

We smelled the blood, though; she'd torn a little, an abrasion like a rug burn. Too rough, too much for her tiny human body.

"Don't," she begged. "It's barely a scrape. You know that. Your nose is just too sensitive. I told you. I wanted it. Hard. Fuck me. Fuck me the way he never will. He treats me like a robin's egg that fell out of the nest, like I'll crack any second. Always so careful; too precious, too pure to give me all of himself. He holds back, keeps that piece of himself from me. It's the piece I want most, the wolf."

I panted, locking down on my muscles, forcing back the phase. I pressed her into the sheer rock face at the rear of the cliff-top clearing. No soft fuck in the tall grass and wildflowers for us.

She bit my lip and I saw myself in the shine of her eyes, the wolf's burning, molten gold stare reflected back at me.

"You're sure?" I checked one last time.

She growled, tightening her arms around me, latching onto my neck, lips and teeth scraping, sucking, lapping at me, pleading, "Fuck, yes! Give me your wolf!"

So I did. I slammed her back hard into the rock, lifting one of her legs, opening her out a little and driving home. I hammered into her, forcing breathless grunts between her lips that I captured in a burning kiss.

I pulled her top to the side and leaned back to look at her undulating torso. Her head was thrown back, naked, full breasts thrust forward - more so even with her top pushed aside, pressing her luscious tits together. The rosy peaks of her nipples were irresistible to the wolf, and to me, her heaving breasts bouncing with every thrust, every gasp, every groan.

I hunched down a little to lap at her candy pink nipples, but the height difference was too much.

"Down," she demanded, wiggling to clarify her request.

The wolf couldn't submit, though; couldn't let her have top even though _I_ wouldn't mind. It was up to me to figure it out.

I kneeled instead, bringing her down to my lap, laying her out in my arms so I could lean forward and lap at the tips of her creamy tits. She moaned and circled her hips, grinding her clit against my pubic bone.

She rested her hands on my shoulders and picked up the pace, grinding me hard, her hands tightening around my neck as her fervor grew. The familiar sounds of her artless little grunts and anxious whimpers echoed around us in the clearing, merely the first harbinger of one of her mind-blowing multiples.

The pressure built, her walls flexing and seizing me in her tight grip as she wailed her way through the first orgasm, soaking my cock and thighs with her tribute, the delicious perfume of her arousal enveloping us like a sweet cloud.

My nostrils flared, the wolf brought to the fore again by the addicting scent we both craved.

I bore down, widening my stance, preparing for the force of her clenching finish.

She raked her nails down my back and I felt the blood well to the surface before it healed almost instantaneously.

She writhed in my arms, getting swept up in the next wave, and whispered provocatively, "Fuck me, make me yours," as the wave of orgasm crashed over her again, but she'd forgotten about the wolf.

You don't provoke the wolf.

He roared, _we_ roared through our release, pumping hard up into her battered pelvis; two hard, final thrusts, jaws clamping down on the tender flesh at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

We laid claim to our mate, worrying the soft, pale skin between our elongated teeth, coating her inside and out with the slick, oily scent of our saliva, musk, and cum - lots of cum. It overflowed her tight channel, seeping out around the place where we were still joined. She'd never be _his_ again. She was ours.

We collapsed, laying side-by-side afterward in a tired heap of sweaty limbs in the clearing, gasping for breath.

The wolf receded, truly content for the first time since I phased. I lapped at the wound, the wolf saliva speeding the healing process slightly.

"You marked me." It wasn't a question. She probed the area around the bite gingerly with her fingertips. It was raw and bruised.

I rose up on my elbow, looking into her eyes worriedly, and tried to explain, "You asked for the wolf. You got him. You begged him to make you his. Now you are."

She stroked my cheek, "I know. I wasn't asking. You'd never have taken me when you still saw me as _his_. Your wolf had to mark me. _He_ can't fight this. I'm marked now. I'm yours."

"And if I _do_ imprint?"

"You won't. I figured it out - a while ago. Imprinting is a weakness, not a reward. It's the wolf's way of forcing the warrior to retire because the man isn't strong enough to share his mind and body with the wolf. Man and wolf must live in concert. If one is imbalanced, both are. The wolf recognizes it even if the man doesn't. The imprint is the wolf's final test. If the man can overcome the imprint, he's strong enough for the wolf to remain. If the man caves to the imprint, softens, puts her needs above the pack or the tribe, the wolf goes and the imprint is the man's consolation. She makes it easier for the man to part with the wolf. It's . . . a kindness on the part of the spirits. The wolf can move on to a more worthy vessel and the man doesn't go through withdrawal longing for the wolf. The imprint fills the void left by the wolf when he goes."

"So the imprinted wolves are weak?"

"Not weak, but not meant to be great warriors either. They're already talking about retiring so they can age with their imprints. What they don't know, I _do_ know. Billy let me read the old journals. A marked mate ages _with_ her wolf. He'll imprint eventually on the mate he chose to mark when it's time for him to retire, too, when the tribe no longer needs wolves. Then, they'll age together."

"Then . . . you're really ours?" I asked in disbelief.

She stretched, wrapping her arms around my neck, her body around mine, she kissed my chest, "I'm yours."

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_Which wolf am I?_

_Let the speculation begin. This one-shot has been extended to a multi-chap fic, "Yours, Mine, Ours" and can be found amongst my other fics here on FFn._

_I will not be posting the answer to the mystery wolf riddle here in this chapter in order to preserve the mystery! You MUST go read chapter 2 of the multi-chapter fic to find the answer to the mystery wolf riddle!_


	2. Ch2: Holidaze, Xmas Contest OS

_This one-shot was originally created and posted for the 2013 Tricky Raven Holiday Contest for Authors and Artists and took the 2013 First Place Author Award._

_**A/N:**__ This one is just a little challenge for myself to see if I could write a less smutty one-shot, something a little more sentimental and sweet. I thought Paul would make a nice foil for the sweet sentimentality I'm experimenting with in this one. Thanks for reading!_

**Group Name: Holidaze-FF  
Author: ChrissiHR  
Pairing**: **Paul/Bella**  
**Genre: Hurt/Comfort and Romance  
Rating**: **M for strong language**  
**Summary**: Paul hates the holidays ... for good reason. Bella brings him a gift he never knew he wanted or needed.  
**Beta: None**  
**Complete**

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Holidaze**

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_Post-New Moon, no cliff jump, Deadward Sullen never came back, yada, yada, yada..._

Paul and Jake ambled along quietly through the old growth snow-crusted forest on the outer edge of the rez, making their way back around to Paul's place on the outskirts. They'd taken to leaving their clothes somewhere inconspicuous outside because they'd get soggy tied to their ankles for a ten-hour patrol in the sloppy, three-day old, crunchy snow.

The rest of the pack was scattered around the rez, most of 'em at home with their families, celebrating the holiday. They would all take turns patrolling short shifts throughout the long night, but Paul had deliberately volunteered for a long one on Christmas Eve so the others could spend more time with their families ... and so he could spend less time at home staring at four walls and-if he was really lucky-avoid the sloppy fucking Christmas cheer playing in a loop on every channel on network TV for the next twenty-four hours.

Jake, the baby-Alpha-in-training, happy-fucking-boy-scout that he was, volunteered to run the long patrol with Paul in order to give the pack more time with their families. He arranged for Billy to spend the day with Charlie, then for Seth to pick him up and take him over to the Clearwaters' for dinner when Charlie took his turn working the late Christmas Eve shift so his deputies could spend time with their young families. Bella was supposed to join the Blacks at the Clearwaters' later.

Paul's pace slowed cautiously when they approached his run-down, piece of shit house. The scent of burning motor oil lingered in the air from a vehicle Paul knew for certain had no good reason to be out here.

Jake huffed a lupine chuckle, "_Yeah, I'll have to check her O-rings soon. She's burning through a quart of oil a week now, I bet._"

He looked at Paul when the big red truck came into view parked in front of his house. "_Don't be pissed okay? Seth was happy about having most of tonight and tomorrow off for the holiday and let it slip that you were going to be alone today and tomorrow and that you volunteered for the extra patrols because you didn't have anything better to do. Then Sue told her how she asked you to come over for Christmas Eve dinner and you said it was 'just another goddamn day like any other day and what did it matter?' and that was when Bells pulled her bossy boots on and decided to try to fix you again. She means well_," he said apologetically as the bluesy-moody strains of Elvis's "White Christmas" drifted towards them from the house along with the scents of ginger and chocolate, a little vanilla, and some almond.

"_Is she playing Christmas music? And baking cookies? __**In my house?**_" Paul's wolf's eyes widened in bewildered outrage.

"_I think she might be decorating, too. She made me help her get out some decorations and lights and stuff last night when I stopped by her house after patrol_," Jake murmured quietly in the pack mind, nodding his muzzle toward the faint twinkling lights behind the blinds in the front window before he trotted around back to grab his clothes.

Paul stalked after Jake, a muted growl rumbling in his chest. He rose up on his rear legs and phased out mid-stride as he climbed the back stairs in full view of the kitchen window. He heard a startled yelp from inside and chuckled darkly.

"Paul... " Jake growled the warning from the yard below the window-out of sight-where he'd tucked his clothes before patrol so he could change in privacy knowing Bella might be there when they came back. He'd been very firmly, but lovingly friend-zoned the previous summer, so he knew she had little-to-no interest in seeing his goodies-no matter how fucking hot he looked buck ass naked. _Her loss_, he snickered. She was his best friend. He figured the least he could do was try not flash her his ass while _she_ tried to do something nice for one of his pack mates.

Paul's lip curled in response as he turned on Jake and told him to fuck off.

"Whatever, dude. Just try to be nice? Please? I gotta run home and shower or I'll be late for dinner. Tell Bells I'll meet her over at the Clearwaters' in an hour?"

Paul's single sharp nod of assent didn't do much to set Jake's mind at ease, but he heard Bella deliberately humming Christmas carols inside-loudly-so he figured she was determined to carry on no matter how big a dick Paul was going to be.

"Be nice," he ordered, jabbing his index finger at him once before taking off.

Paul took the stairs two at a time, yanking the door open and nearly pulling it off its hinges.

"SWAN!" he bellowed, stomping into the kitchen, glaring at her murderously. "You interfering little..."

"Leech-fucker?" she supplied, sweeping past him, rolling her eyes, all business with a stack of tins and a picture frame balanced in her arms. "Yeah, yeah. I know. 'Go away, pale face.' 'Stop moving my shit around, Swan. I can't find anything when you pull this cleaning shit on me.' 'I left those underwear on the floor for a reason, you nagging twit.' I've heard it all before, so play a new tune. That one's getting old, Lahote," she sneered.

She arranged the tins on the counter and fussed with a few other things, then turned around to glare back at him in challenge, bravely bearding the wolf in his own den.

"Why are you doing this?" he snapped. "Is it just because you can't _help_ yourself? You like interfering and being underfoot all the goddamn time?"

She cocked her hip and crossed her arms, barking back at him, "You took a ten-hour patrol on Christmas Eve so the others could spend more time with their families. You're always stepping up and taking care of everyone else! What?" She threw her hands in the air. "We aren't allowed to take care of you once in a while? Show you that it means something to us-the little things _you_ do? I don't understand how someone who's so thoughtful sometimes can be such an ungrateful prick to everyone!"

She stopped then, dropping her eyes to the floor, murmuring, "Or maybe it's just me."

Paul's heart clenched in rebellion at the sound of those hateful words, the self-doubt in them. He just hated feeling like a fucking charity case, like she _had_ to do those things for him. That was why he'd been avoiding the Clearwaters' place tonight. He didn't realize...

He watched, feeling a little helpless and out of his depth as she swiftly gathered her things and threw on her coat, her lip wobbling a little tearfully, the silence between them humming with tension.

"Swan," he called after her, then cursed, "I mean ... Bella?"

She stopped at the front door and sighed, shoulders drooping in defeat.

She turned around, her eyes cautiously seeking out his, worrying her shaking lip between her teeth as she waited for him to yell again when a single tear spilled over.

But he didn't yell. That one tear razed all of his self-righteous indignation down to the ground. He brought his hands up in a helpless gesture, not sure where to start or how to go about fixing this, or if he should even bother trying.

She put her things on the chair by the door and approached him slowly. When she stood so close she could feel his heat, she threw her arms around his waist and closed her eyes, letting a few more tears escape and hugging him quickly as she whispered, "Merry Christmas, Paul."

Then she was gone, rushing to the chair, snatching up her empty boxes and leftover lights, and out the door.

Paul stood there, shocked into silence.

She clattered down the stairs, heaved the stuff in the bed of her truck and cranked the engine, taking off in a cloud of billowing black smoke.

Paul still stood there, just thinking.

She hugged him.

She put up a tree and hung stockings-enough for the whole damn pack, from the look of it.

She fucking baked cookies.

Nobody had ever baked Paul cookies. Not in _this_ house. His house had never smelled like cookies.

He wondered what kind.

He wandered out to the kitchen, past the tidied shelves and dusted furniture. He looked down. Fuck, she even scrubbed the fucking baseboards and vacuumed and put out little area rugs he had no idea he had. _Who does that shit?_ he wondered.

He found a stack of tins on the kitchen counter-half a dozen of them or more-filled with cookies of all kinds.

In front of the cookies was an empty picture frame and a note tucked under a sprig of mistletoe.

_Paul,_

_I would have framed a picture of you and I as well, but I couldn't find any, so I baked you some cookies instead to make your house smell like Christmas and left you this frame. I'd like for you to join us for dinner at the Clearwaters' tonight so we can fix that. Fill the frame, I mean, with a picture of you and me. Come for dessert at the very least, if you're not up for the big family dinner. My dad is working tonight and my mom is in Jacksonville with her new husband, Phil. You're not the only one who's without their family on Christmas Eve. There's no reason to stay that way, though. Come have dinner with us. Please?_

_Merry Christmas, Paul._

_Love,_

_Bella_

He looked up, scanning the house. There were framed pictures of him with the pack everywhere, all over the house; there were big frames, little frames, collages, even a big picture the size of a poster-a picture Bella had taken of his, Sam's, and Jared's wolves from a distance when they were phased to obscure their massive size.

He wandered into the living room and found more; pictures of him when he was a kid playing with Sam and Jared, and even Leah on the fourth of July, as well as pictures of Jake, Embry, Quil, and Seth facing off against the big kids in a game of touch football at the beach before a bonfire when they were young teens. Every available surface was cluttered with newly-framed pictures.

Pictures of his family, he realized, drawing up short.

Bella had given him _family_ for Christmas this year-had left pictures to show him and baked cookies to prove that there was someone who cared enough to make his house smell like a home. Everything she'd done was to remind him that he didn't need to be alone tonight-he had a family to be with.

He stood there for a second in a daze, unsure of what to do. Would she really still want him to come to dinner after the way he spoke to her?

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Bella was talking to Leah, explaining how the camera app on her phone worked and what she wanted her to do if, on the off chance, Paul actually showed up that night, when all the noise in the house suddenly ceased-everything but the tinkling background noise of A Charlie Brown Christmas playing on TV.

Every human, every wolf, _everyone_, went completely silent.

Standing just inside the front door-dressed in a pair of neat, dark-wash jeans and a charcoal grey shirt that Bella herself had bought, pressed, and left hanging on his closet door that afternoon in the hope that he would take the hint-was Paul Lahote. He wore an old, well-loved pair of motorcycle boots and looked like hot sex on a stick with the top few buttons of the shirt undone.

He was the only guy she knew who somehow managed to look hotter wearing _more_ clothes, rather than less.

"_Paul?_" she whispered, not sure whether she could believe her eyes.

_He came_...

He shifted to the side, shaking the fresh snow out of his hair and propping his back up against the door frame as he dropped his eyes to the floor, one booted foot kicked out against the opposite side, toes digging into the molding, "I got your note."

"My note?"

"The one you left under the mistletoe, by the cookies," he said as he held it up, twirling the sprig between his fingers.

"Oh. Yeah, I figured," she said, stepping closer to give them the illusion of privacy in the silent room.

"The house looks nice. I should have thanked you instead of snapping and trying to run you off again," he admitted quietly.

"It's okay."

"I didn't get you anything."

"You came."

"Yeah?" his eyebrows ticked up, in surprise.

"Yeah," she smiled.

He straightened up, clearing his throat, "Listen, if you're not doing anything-" He cleared his throat again, shifting nervously. "Fuck it," he muttered, snapping out of it and lunging for her suddenly. He pulled her into a hug.

She stood awkwardly for a second, just a little terrified and not sure where to put her hands or if it was okay to hug him back. Then, relaxing minutely, she let her hands fall against his shirt, soothing up and down his lower back, mimicking his movements.

"Thanks," he murmured in her ear, "For the cookies and ... everything." He leaned back and looked into her beautiful wide eyes-really looked for the first time-and reached up to tuck the sprig of mistletoe behind her ear.

"You're welcome," she whispered, getting a little teary again and trying to brush it off as she pulled away, lifting her shoulder to her ear in a dismissive shrug. "It's just a few cookies. No big deal."

The unshed tears in her eyes broke down that final barrier, the wall of the inner sanctum, the place he never let anyone into and he whispered apologetically, "I've been a dick."

She lifted a hand cautiously, gently stroking from his temple down to his jaw as his eyelids fluttered in pleasure at her careful touch. She smiled, not the least bit surprised he hadn't actually apologized, and answered, "I know," and then she was kissing him as his lips parted on the beginning of a laugh.

Then he was kissing her back.

_Click,_ Bella heard her phone and smiled at Leah's timing. This was a moment she never wanted to forget.

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	3. Ch3: Little Red: A Party of Four, SP1

**_This one-shot was originally created and posted for the 2013 Tricky Raven Holiday Contest for Authors and Artists._**

**A/N:** _This is my smutty entry for the annual holiday contest. It's just a little idea I was kicking around a few months ago and never published. It's been languishing in my junk file ever since. It is gratuitous, unapologetic, and indulgent in the extreme. I hope reading it makes you squirm as much as I did writing it. Enjoy!_

**Group Name: Little Red & Her Big Bad Wolves: A Party of Four-FF  
Author: ChrissiHR  
Pairing**: **Jacob/Bella/Embry/Leah - This is a POLY (or multi-amory) fic, so yeah, that pairing is for ALL FOUR of them. Giggity!**  
**Genre: SMUT! (i.e. Adult/Romance)  
Rating**: **M for strong language, adult situations, graphic descriptions**  
**Summary**: The morning after the pack Christmas party at the Alpha's house, Paul stumbles across the remainder of another kind of party and learns things about his Alpha, Beta, and their mates that he never suspected.  
**Beta: None**  
**Complete**

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Inspiration for this one-shot: "Little Red Riding Hood" by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs.

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Little Red & Her Big Bad Wolves: A Party of Four

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After a quick rinse-off and warm up in the new outdoor shower the pack built over the weekend, Paul grabbed a towel and a pair of shorts from the trunk Jake and Bella kept on the screen porch for the pack. He slipped the shorts on and eased the screen door open, slipping quietly into the old restaurant reception hall that would serve as a kind of man cave for the pack now. It had easy access to the forest and the outdoor shower Bella and Leah had insisted was a priority (with a water heater that made water hot enough for even a wolf to feel it). The pack could let themselves in from the basement walk-out patio without disturbing the Alpha and Beta couples upstairs in the main residence.

The old lodge was working out really well as a pack house. When Jake and Bella decided to start commuting to Port A that autumn for courses at the U-Dub satellite campus with Leah and Embry, the four of them took the next logical step and started looking for a place to live together. Four roommates sharing one space would make having their own place that much more affordable.

At least, that was the story they passed around the rez and fed to the council at the time.

Billy knew what the real deal was and he was concerned that if they moved off the rez, they might never be fully accepted by the tribe. He pushed Jake, Embry, and Leah to petition the council for either a land or housing grant. There were plenty of old homes on the rez that would have been a cinch for the pack to fix up in a matter of a few weeks. Then Leah remembered that there was an old lodge that the tribe used as a substitute for the tribal council center when they were kids when the new hall was being built in the center of the rez. The lodge was once a small hotel, playing host to hunters in the fall and winter, and hikers and beach goers in the warmer months back in the 60s. There were a half dozen or more guest rooms on the second and third floors, an old restaurant and bar on the bottom floor that had been studiously maintained by the tribe for special events like indoor weddings, a couple of massive stone fire places, and lots of open space. There were also a bunch of private cabins on the property that just needed a little TLC. They could be rented out or used by other members of the pack.

It would be the perfect space for the pack to gather, so Jake put in the request on behalf of himself, Embry, and Leah, and waited. Elders Ateara and Black jumped on the idea and pushed the other members of the Council of Elders to grudgingly grant their request.

Paul was seriously considering Jake's offer to renovate one of the old private rental cabins for himself. He could be close to the pack, have his own space, and get away from the memories of his fucked up childhood in his parents' old place. The more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. Not to mention, living nearby meant having an open invitation for most meals.

Bella and Embry were awesome cooks.

Bella insisted he and the other wolves stop by to crash for a few hours and have breakfast with them after early morning patrols anyway. Jake and Emb had assured him that he was welcome any time-that he wouldn't disturb the four of them sleeping in their rooms on the third floor if he did, but he still tried to keep the noise to a minimum. He respected that the Alpha didn't share his space with just anyone and that their living arrangements might make them leery of unannounced visitors at off-hours.

He just wanted to nap on the couch in the den for now. He knew Bella would be pissed that he hadn't taken one of the guest rooms they were renovating, but then she'd want to fluff the pillows, air the bedding, and put out fresh towels or some shit like that-treat him like a real guest.

He wasn't comfortable with her going to all that trouble for him, no matter how sincere she was about it being no trouble. It made his shoulder blades itch. She was such a, such a ... pack mom. She mothered him and he both loved it and hated it because he had no idea how to respond to it. He'd never been babied or fussed over before and, besides, Bella was younger than him. He knew her mom was kind of a flake and a drunk, and that Bella had all but raised herself. The last thing she needed now that she was out on her own was to be taking care of an entire pack of teenage wolves.

Maybe there was something he could do to help her? He'd give it some thought.

He turned the corner and stooped slightly to duck under the mistletoe in the low stone arched doorway of the newly-renovated den.

His breath caught and his heart sped up at the erotic tableau that was laid out before him. He had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

Embry sat, naked, on the deep tobacco-colored leather couch, head tipped back, mouth open. His face was relaxed in the soft lines of sleep. His arms were wrapped tenderly around a practically naked Bella. Emb's biceps and shoulders were scored with a criss-cross of deep, red scratches that were still healing. Even in sleep and covered with rosy welts, he held Bella gently, like she was the most fragile, precious thing in his world.

Bella sat astride Embry's lap, head resting in the crook of his neck, lips pressed to his throat in her sleep. Her long mahogany hair was a mess from Embry's hands. The thick disorderly curls nearly obscured his view of the bright red scratch marks and faint bruising in the shape of Embry's long fingers that marred the usually creamy, smooth skin of her back.

Her face was gently flushed with a tinge of pink, her expression totally blissed-out from her exertions.

Paul knew that look well from his own sexcapades since he'd phased; she was freshly-fucked and all tuckered out. It looked like it had been a pretty wild ride, too, judging by the scratches and bruising.

She wore nothing but sheer black stockings with that fuck-hot back seam that always made Paul drool and a satiny red garter belt. He looked closer. Printed all over the satin garter belt were little bunches of mistletoe. He chuckled darkly, imagining all the kissing that had happened under _that_ mistletoe the previous night.

She cuddled Emb, her knees bent at either side of his waist, toes curled and tucked under his thighs. A scrap of red silk and a pair of tiny black leather stilettos that could only have fit Bella lay jumbled on the floor at the end of the couch.

Embry had one hand resting on her bare ass below the sleek garter belt, his first two fingers snugged between her cheeks, holding her firmly in place. The other hand grasped the nape of her neck under her hair, just above a dark purple bruise in the shape of a bite mark. Paul could see it yellowing as it healed. Bella's arms were draped lightly around Embry's shoulders, cradling him in return.

Paul's eyebrows shot up as he noticed one final detail; Bella appeared to have red and green glitter and flaky, dried cum all over her back. The kinky little freak.

Speaking of kinky freaks . . .

At their feet, sprawled out together on the floor in front of the couch under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree in the corner, were Jake and Leah, both bare-assed naked except for the black silk stockings tied like handcuffs around Leah's wrists in a big pretty bow.

That was a Christmas bow Paul thought he'd have enjoyed opening, wrapped around the enticing gift of a nude Leah.

She lay mostly on her stomach and left side, hands tucked into her chest, one knee bent slightly out to the side; the beautiful, burnished-red skin of her lush ass glowed still with a hint of pink in the shape of Jake's hand.

_Leah lets Jake spank her?_ Paul's eyes widened in awe.

He glanced back up to Bella and Embry, noticing her bottom had a hint of pink handprints, too. He had to adjust his dick in his shorts when he let his mind wander to the possibility that they'd gotten those spankings together while they watched each other or maybe even side-by-side.

A dreamy grin crossed his features. Paul was definitely an ass man, through and through.

Jake lay nearly face-down as well, one leg hitched up a little over Leah, his body partially covering her as if to shield her nudity even in sleep. His left arm, bent, cradled her head, preventing it from resting directly on the plush, second-hand rug below. His right arm was slung possessively over her hip, but his open hand cupped the lower part of Embry's calf, connecting the four of them even at rest.

Paul's eyes nearly fell out of his head when he noticed the dried cum flaking off of Jake's back, too.

_Holy shit,_ he thought. _I knew, I mean, of course, I knew, but I . . . I never realized . . ._ _They really do fuck each other __**and**_ _each others' girls. Wow._ Paul's mind was blown.

Paul didn't think there was anybody he'd ever been _that_ comfortable with in his life. When he really thought about it, he realized he thought of the four of them as a unit these days. Like a couple, only more. He thought they were lucky to have each other to rely on. No revulsion on his part. Certainly no jealousy. He was happy for them, for his pack. He'd never had any kind of real family, much less that kind of support.

He did envy them the love and companionship, though. He thought he'd like a family, someday, too.

A glance around the room showed clothing had been hastily removed and tossed haphazardly, laying wherever it fell in their hurry to undress one another after the pack's big Christmas party the night before.

Paul had gone, too, but had left early to run his patrol, relieving Quil at two o'clock that morning. He'd been spending less and less time lately trawling the seedier clubs, hooking up with his usual types of dates-easy and desperate. Anyone not looking for a long-term relationship was his type. Ever since he decided to follow Jake as Alpha, he'd felt like there was something-_someone,_ rather-better out there, waiting for him.

He'd become content since then, waiting to see what hand fate dealt him. Would he imprint soon because his wolf was eager to be rid of him or would he find a mate who would accept him and his mark? He hoped it was the latter. He was actually becoming eager to find love the old fashioned way and he wasn't sure he could stop phasing any time soon anyway. He didn't have that kind of control yet.

A throat clearing brought an end to his quiet reverie.

It was Jake, eyes still closed, whispering against the soft skin of Leah's shoulder, "Everything okay, man?"

"Huh?" Paul started, then dropped his voice as he snapped his eyes up to the ceiling to avoid staring, "Yeah, sorry, man. Didn't mean to barge in on you guys. Bells said I should just crash here whenever and, well . . . I was just going to take advantage of a hot shower and a quick nap before breakfast. Um . . . Hey, man, you got a little- I mean, there's something on your ba- Listen, I should go-"

"Dude, relax," Jake breathed softly, leaning over Leah to pull a soft cotton throw from the stack of blankets under the end table. He flicked it open over her motionless form.

Paul judiciously studied the Christmas decorations hanging from the low coffered ceiling, deliberately not dropping his eyes to look at his cum-covered Alpha no matter his order to relax. Paul thought the white things woven into the evergreen garlands dangling from the ceiling must be mistletoe, too. Huh. Somebody decked the shit out of Jake and Emb's man cave with the mistletoe. He _really_ didn't want to think about why the guys' space was dripping with bouquets of kissing weeds.

Sometimes, there were things a guy did did not want to know were happening under the mistletoe between two of his friends. _This_ was one of those times.

"You're pack. We told you that you were welcome anytime and we meant it. This is all on us. We shouldn't have passed out down here. We know better; with half a dozen single guys coming and going at all hours of the day and night, we should have moved to the master bedroom down here, at least. Grab a seat out at the bar. I'll join you in a minute," Jake instructed, tucking the blanket around Leah and removing the stocking bindings from her wrists. He leaned over to whisper softly and nipped at her ear, grazing a hot hand down her back, "I'll be back in a bit to take you to bed."

She hummed a little "m'kay, Jay" and curled up on her side, pulling Jake's rumpled dress shirt from the floor by her head up to her face and inhaling deeply before she relaxed into a more restful slumber.

Embry roused slightly as Paul was about to walk out - just enough to accept the blanket Jake was holding out to lay over them. Embry adjusted it to cover Bella's bare back more fully, then wrapped his arms over the top of the blanket, tucking her into his body and shifting to stretch out on the couch. Jake brushed a hand tenderly over Embry's temple as he settled back down.

Embry leaned into the touch, a muted lupine rumble emitting from his throat.

Jake was only a few seconds behind Paul as he crossed the room to the old bar in the now-defunct restaurant with its polished, dark, wood-paneled walls, brass rails, and sparkling glasses.

Paul looked around in admiration. the four of them had really put a lot of elbow grease into this place over the last few months.

Thankfully, Jake had pulled on some boxers and a t-shirt before joining him, Paul noticed, so he wouldn't have to think about Embry's midnight deposit all over Jake's back.

Paul still wasn't sure where to look, though. He'd just realized that his Beta was most likely fucking his Alpha and maybe vice versa. The wolf and Paul were having trouble wrapping their shared minds around it.

Paul looked at the floor. He figured that was the safest bet.

Jake slapped him on the back and laughed quietly as he took the seat beside him at the bar, "Don't spend too much time trying to figure out how it works. You'll give yourself an aneurysm."

Paul nodded in consternation, his brows drawing together, deep in thought, "Yeah. Man, I knew. I guess I just didn't process it until now. You, Leah, and Emb keep such a tight lid on your thoughts when you're phased, you know?"

Jake 'hmm'ed in response, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them, waiting for Paul to continue. He knew there would be questions when they stopped hiding the true nature of his and Emb's part of their unique foursome.

There was something Paul _had_ to know, though, "Your wolf is happy? I mean, he's okay with it?"

Jake looked thoughtful for a second like he was double-checking with his wolf, "My wolf loves Embry like he loves Leah. My love for Bella is different. There's some woo-woo Alpha's mate mojo going on there that nothing trumps, but the wolf views all three of them as our mates. He wants to please them and revels in the pleasure they bring us. So do I. I'm not suggesting the wolf can never be wrong, but if it harms no one, we're all consenting adults, and it brings us any measure of happiness, who am I to judge what the wolf spirits have in store for us?"

Paul nodded in understanding, "Yeah, I get that. Listen, I'm sorry I just walked in here. If I'd just stopped and listened at the door to make sure this floor was clear, I would have known not to walk in."

Jake smiled, "Don't sweat it. I'm sure it won't be the last time you walk in on us. We don't have much control over the where and when of it yet when the four of us are together. We seem to just amp each other up and lose all sense of cognitive reasoning in the heat of the moment. More woo-woo wolf mojo." Jake shrugged at the end of his explanation. It was the best they'd come up with so far.

"Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be. The four of you all together like this-it has to have some kind of mystical significance, right? It would probably be difficult to harness-like right on the edge of out of control, whatever it is. There's something else. Have you noticed you just used the words 'cognitive reasoning'? I mean, you're only seventeen, almost eighteen, and all of a sudden you, Emb, and Leah sound like Bella - like you're years older and way smarter than the usual rez kid with a GED."

Jake's mouth popped open in surprise. He hadn't noticed until Paul pointed it out. Maybe there was more to this than the mystical stuff they'd only guessed at so far. He knew Bella was crazy smart, like genius smart-always had been. Was it possible they were getting some kind of feedback from her? Could she be sharing some of her innate gifts with them, too?

Paul scratched his head while he mulled over a possible solution for the more immediate problem, "Um ... about me walking in. Uh, maybe we should put up a sign by the outdoor shower since we all use it before we come in the house after phasing-a reminder to check that the coast is clear before barging in. It _is_ your home, after all. You should be able to have sex wherever the hell you want with your mates without us barging in all the time. Hell, we could even knock like normal people for once!"

Jake laughed, grinning broadly and nodding his head once emphatically, "Knocking on the door. Novel concept. Maybe I should just put the old customer warning bell back on the door, too."

"There you go," Paul chuckled. "The alternative is dog collars with bells on them for the pups." He winked. "Listen, you should probably get the girls up to bed before anybody else stumbles in and gets the free show I got. The girls won't be happy that I saw them as it is. Imagine if Seth were to walk in here right now . . . ?"

Jake cringed, "Good point. Take one of the spare bedrooms up at this end, Paul. I'll get Emb to help me move the girls to the room down the other end."

"The master? Is that one done yet?" Paul quirked a brow at him.

"Almost. It's the only bed we'll all fit in together down here. We don't sleep well when we're apart, so we don't if we can avoid it. We got most of it out of our systems last night anyway. We're only going to sleep-mostly," he winked lasciviously.

"Whatever, dude. I need a nap. Try not to wake me when you bugger Embry later in retaliation for the crusty back. I have delicate virgin ears," Paul teased.

Jake laughed, "I'll make sure to clamp a hand over his big mouth while I'm at it. He's a moaner."

"TMI! Holy fuck! Way too much information!" Paul threw his hands up to cover those delicate virgin ears of his. La-la-la-ing, he took off to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen.

Jake returned to the den, padding in on silent feet to avoid disturbing the girls and laying a hand on Emb's shoulder to wake him gently, "Time for bed. Give me a hand with the girls?"

Embry nodded, shifting his hold on Bella and wrapping her legs around his waist. He rose to his feet and waited for Jake. Bella snuggled deeper into his warm embrace. He stroked her glossy hair and shifted his other hand lower under her rear, taking a second to enjoy the opportunity to stroke the exposed, dewy, pink folds. They dripped with the copious combined efforts of himself and Jake from the previous night. Bella hummed with pleasure and squirmed delightedly over his searching digits. She smelled incredible covered as she was in their scents.

"You'll get more of that later," he promised her with a kiss. "You need some rest now."

She gave a little nod and kissed his throat.

Jake eased Leah's arms into his dress shirt for modesty's sake and hoisted her easily into his bulging arms, her soaked, sticky thighs resting on his forearm. He could feel the heat from her drenched pussy pulsing against his sensitive skin. His and Embry's cum seeped, glistening, from her soaked slit with every step of the short trip across the wide hall to the largest of the spare bedrooms. Jake inhaled that heavenly scent of hers indulgently, opening his mouth and pulling the scent over his tongue to taste as well as scent her.

No one could accuse he and Embry of ignoring the spirits' mandate to increase the size of the pack and their tribe with their mates. Jake himself would be shocked if one of the girls didn't end up pregnant in the next few months or so. His wolf was rabid to fill Bella and Leah with his seed. He wanted them soaked in it, drowning in it, until one of them swelled with the first pack pup.

Embry's wolf felt the same, he knew. Leah's sex drive was nearly as great as Bella's these days. She couldn't even phase in with anyone other than Jake or Embry, so consumed were her she-wolf's thoughts with lust for their cocks and cum. It could be a little unnerving, that constant lustful intensity. The markings had only increased that intensity ten-fold in their lusty female mates.

Jake hoped that intensity would settle a little with pregnancy. They would need a lot more sleep to grow a healthy pup than they were getting in this first, frenzied heat cycle.

Paul was just emerging from the kitchen, but halted in the doorway to offer the foursome the illusion of privacy when he realized they were crossing the hall. Jake cradled Leah in his arms and Bella was wrapped around Embry, arms and legs clamped around him like a Rhesus monkey. The blanket that he'd wrapped around her bare back slipped away as he walked, giving Paul the full view of Embry's rock hard, massive cock rubbing wetly beneath Bella's juicy pink folds.

Paul lowered his eyes to the floor in a show of submission and respect to the Alpha and Beta pairs. He closed himself off in one of the nearly-finished spare rooms. Tossing his shorts over a chair, he crawled naked between the sheets. Bella refused to skimp to save money by buying cheap sheets. She always got the high thread-count ones because she liked how they felt on her skin now that she could hardly stand to wear clothes, too. The marking had increased her resting temperature to slightly warmer than a wolf's. Paul understood her obsession with the sheets, though. The high thread-count made even cotton feel like cool silk against his heated skin.

Each bed had a quilt, too, hand-made by Bella's Aunt Molly or her Grandma Swan-not that any of the wolves needed a quilt.

Paul lay there for a few minutes, thinking over his unexpected discovery in the den that morning. His dick throbbed and he knew he'd have to deal with it before he could even think about sleep. He threw back the quilt, rubbing the moisture that beaded on the tip of his painfully hard cock down his length. He couldn't shake the amazing mental image of Bella's tiny pink pussy cradling Embry's huge dick.

He tightened his grip and used his other hand to press the sensitive spot under his balls, prolonging his pleasure, tugging and grunting, his imagination running wild. He was assaulted with images of Jake flipping Leah over onto her bound hands and knees so he could ride her hot she-wolf puss hard, giving her a few stinging slaps to heighten her pleasure as he pistoned in and out of her at inhuman speed.

She could take that kind of pounding, too. She'd want it - the rough, feral fuck and the punishing slaps. Her wolf would demand it.

A hint of pain would make the pleasure so much sweeter, Paul thought, pounding his slick cock mercilessly in his thick fist, as one last image pushed him over the edge; Leah nibbling and finger-fucking Bella's juicy, pink pussy while Embry reamed Leah's ass and Jake rode Embry, the four of them wailing in the throes of ecstasy together, slicked with sweat and reeking of wolf pheromones.

Paul had to bite his lip to keep from shouting when he erupted; thick jets of cum spilling all over his fist and stomach. He couldn't contain the throaty, satisfied moan that escaped, however. His vision went gray and he nearly blacked out from the intensity. It was overwhelming.

He found some tissues on the night stand and cleaned up, not wanting to mess up the sheets.

Just as he pulled the covers up and turned on his side to close his eyes, Paul heard Embry whisper from the far end of the hall, "Sounded like a good one, man."

Paul smiled.

Jake whispered back with a quiet laugh, "Yeah, his spank bank was overflowing with images from this morning. He'll be out for a few hours."

Paul chuckled quietly and drifted off to sleep, nestled snug in the bed, visions of tender pink flesh, erect coral nipples, and glistening dusky skin dancing in his head.

It sure as shit beat visions of sugar plums.

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_Ha-cha-cha! I know what you pervs were thinkin'! Muahaha! So, here it is, a smutty foursome one-shot where no one gets any action except for Paul and his date, Miss Righty. ;)_


	4. Ch4: Little Red: The Wolf Riders, SP2

**This is a full-length chapter sneak peek that I shared exclusively for the first time on January 11, 2014 with the viewers of the 2014 Fandom Choice Awards Live Results Show here: Sneak Peek: Little Red & Her Big Bad Wolves: The Wolf Riders.**

**Author:** ChrissiHR, **Pre-reader:** meliz875**, Banner:** Dontcallmeleelee

**Rating:** MA, strong language and adult situations discussed

**Timeline:** Post-New Moon, no cliff-jump, the Cullens haven't returned.

_✫.¸¸ ._ _✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫_

**Little Red & Her Big Bad Wolves: The Wolf Riders**

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**Jacob**

"Jacob," Bella's Aunt Molly greeted me with a smile, swinging the screen door open to motion me in. "I'm sorry for summoning you this way, but I had to speak to you alone, to explain some changes that will be coming soon that you'll need to be aware of."

I fidgeted nervously in the family room, feeling too big in the small space as usual, not sure if I should sit or stand. This didn't sound like good news.

"No need to be nervous, young man. Come into the kitchen. I made some of that mint iced tea you like so much," she gestured for me to take a seat and grabbed the pitcher from the fridge. She poured us each a glass over ice and little sprigs of mint from her backyard garden.

I took a sip and sighed contentedly, closing my eyes briefly. It tasted so fresh and green, like taking deep breaths when I was phased wolf running through the woods on patrol.

When I open my eyes, I realized Molly was looking at me curiously, so I explained, "Bella makes that for me when she and her dad come over for dinner. It reminds me of running wolf on patrol on a really nice day. I didn't realize the tea was a family recipe."

She smiled and sipped her own absently, "Mm … yes. The mint cuttings for her kitchen garden, and yours, came from mine when you were both still babies. Your mothers both loved how it made their kitchens smell afterward."

My wolf chuffed happily at the thought of Bella carrying on a family tradition like that for our sakes. It made me happy, too**—**the reminder of the history I shared with Bells, the reminder of my mom. I'd forgotten that Mom used to make the tea, too.

"I suspect Bella makes it because she thought you might miss your mother's," she said gently.

"Oh, yeah … I guess I kind of forgot about Mom making it. She's been gone so long now … " I trailed off.

She patted my hand, "I know. Deep down, I think Bella just recognizes that it makes you happy when she makes the tea for you. The reason for your happiness won't matter to her, as long as you're smiling."

I looked at the glass and the edges of my vision blurred as a fuzzy, long-forgotten memory came to the fore. "Mom … mom used to freeze the mint right in the ice cubes. I picked it out of the glass if it wasn't frozen in the ice. It was green and I didn't like salad, so she promised not to put salad in my glass. We compromised on the ice cubes and shook on it," I said, my voice hitching at the memory of my mom pouring the tea over my special ice cubes and patting my head.

I looked up at Molly in wonder, "I didn't remember that until just now."

"You weren't meant to," she whispered sagely and the tightness around my heart dissipated.

"What do you mean?" I asked, relaxed now that the urge to cry over Mom's memory had passed.

"You're coming of age, young Alpha. Many things will be revealed to you in the coming months. That's why I called you here today, to explain what's coming. You need to understand, so you don't let anger and jealousy color your reactions to the coming changes."

"What changes?" The nerves came back, not as bad as before, but I didn't like the sound of where this was going.

"Bella-" she began.

"What about Bella?" I growled.

"Calm yourself, young Alpha. It's nothing bad, only different from what you've been taught to expect."

"You wonder sometimes why you've never imprinted on my niece, is that correct?" she asked.

I felt like she'd just punched me in the gut, but I answered anyway, whispering, "Yes."

"And if I told you again that you weren't meant to?"

"I'd wonder how the spirits could be so cruel. I've loved her my entire life, so much so that I wondered if it wasn't possible to imprint as a human at birth," I explained. "She was there, you know. The day I was born. Mom told me the story not long before she died.

"Renee came to attend Mom's birth at the tribal medical center. Renee was some kind of certified birth coach dou-loo or something and my mom wanted her there because my dad had to deal with the twins and all his tribal responsibilities and there was no way to know for sure that he'd be able to stay for the entire labor and delivery. Babies take a while to come, I guess.

"Becca was climbing a tree outside the medical center while Charlie was watching her and Rach. She fell and broke her arm. Dad left the room for a few minutes to help Charlie deal with the twins and get Becca taken care of by the doctor on call. The doctor had to leave Mom's room for a few minutes, too, to order X-rays for Becca.

"Mom said I was born in the five minutes it took for the doctor to sign the order for X-rays and administer pain meds to Becca. Renee delivered me herself. It all happened really quickly. Bella was two at the time, but she didn't freak out. She climbed up on the bed and sat beside Mom. Mom said Bella looked at me so longingly while Mom held me that first time that she offered to let Bella hold me next.

"Bella was the first person to hold me after my mother, even before my own father. Mom said she curled up on her side around Bella and laid me in her lap, supporting my head for her. She said Bella kissed my head and said, 'Love you, Baby.' Those are the first words Bella ever said to me."

I looked Molly right in the eye as I expressed my fondest wish, "I hope those are the last words**—**the last voice**—**I hear before I die as well."

Her face lit up in a dazzling smile, "I had no idea you were such a romantic, Jacob Black. You're a born ladies man**—**just like your father."

_Ew …_

The smile faded naturally and she continued. "You and Bella do share a special connection. There are things … things you don't know about imprinting. Secrets that aren't mine to tell," she rushed to explain before I could ask what she meant.

"However, there are things about Bella, and Charlie as well, that I _can_ tell you. She's a member of my family and I'm the oldest surviving member which gives me certain rights. First and foremost, you need to know that Charlie knows about the wolves," she explained.

"What?" I whispered incredulously. Then the implications set in. "You told him?!"

"Don't shout at me, young man. I did _not_ tell him. He figured it out when he was five years old. He's known most of his life. He's not stupid!"

The supernatural world as I knew it just got turned on its head as I considered how Charlie could possibly know about the pack.

"There were no wolves in La Push when Charlie and my dad were kids. My great-granddad stopped phasing when my dad was still in diapers," I reasoned.

A sad smile crossed her face, "Your great-granddad wasn't the final wolf to give up phasing from the former pack. There were two others after him. One of them is still alive."

"What?" My mind worked at light speed as I considered the possibilities. Then it hit me, "Old Quil?"

She nodded.

"Does he … when did he phase last?"

"He's been phasing once every couple of years to slow down our aging to be sure we'd live long enough to pass on our knowledge to the next pack."

"'We'? His phasing slows down the aging process for both of you? Are you his imprint?" I asked, not sure if that was too personal a question, but I was dying to know if it was a quirk of imprinting.

"I am not, but the reason I age with him is because I'm a marked mate," she swept her hair aside to show me the two crescent-shaped marks where her neck and shoulder met.

"_He bit you?_" I was horrified, seething with anger. I felt terrible for even considering biting Bella the other day, but to know a wolf had lost control and scarred his mate in such a way was unforgivab-

"No, Jacob," she cut off my internal rant in response to the parade of emotions playing across my face, "he marked me symbolically during an intimate moment. It is an instinctual action, but a leap of faith that is required on the part of the wolf and his mate**—**putting their trust in the spirits not to separate them. Marking has drawbacks. It must be discussed between mates before it is done because it renders the mates fertile only to one another. The woman will never bear children for anyone other than her mate. The wolf will never impregnate another woman other than _his_ mate. It causes no pain. It's actually very … " she blushed like Bella to the roots of her hair, " … very enjoyable for the mated couple."

I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair. I really didn't want to know these things about Quil's gran, "Umm … so the marking is significant? It's an alternative to imprinting for mates who don't imprint? It slows down your aging, too, or matches yours up with his or something?"

"Yes, but we'll have to leave it at that for now. My Quil will have to reveal the rest of the real details about imprinting. I'm under Alpha orders to leave those explanations to Quil," she answered, but I wasn't sure which question she was answering 'yes' to; one or all of them? Then her words sank in.

"Alpha orders? Sam knows about this?" The thought that Sam had kept this important information about an alternative to imprinting filled me with rage again. My hands shook.

Molly laid her hand over mine and the tremors ceased, "Sam is not the Alpha who issued these orders."

Oh, so … "My great-granddad?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"What are those orders?"

She sighed. She looked like she was trying to think of a way around the orders to explain them without breaking them, "We have orders to give the greatest pack secrets only to the next true Alpha and his claimed mate after he ascends to Alpha."

"So Sam knows these secrets already?"

"He does not."

"I don't understand," and I was getting sick of being talked in fucking circles.

Then she dropped the bomb on me, "You know Sam is not the true Alpha. You are. We can only reveal the former pack's secrets to you if you take your rightful place as the next hereditary Alpha."

My jaw dropped at the sudden realization that more important information was be being kept from the pack because of my refusal to step up, "Shit."

"Language," she admonished me**,** future Alpha status be damned.

"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled.

We sat in unsettled silence for a few minutes while I gathered my thoughts.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Jacob. You're not ready yet."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. You will know when it is time. You'll follow your instincts. Don't doubt them."

"Even if they're telling me to bite the holy fuck out of Bella's throat and render her sterile to other men?"

"Yes."

I gaped at her, shocked. All I could do was blink.

"I'll give you a minute," she said with a smirk as she sat back in her chair, cupping her glass between her hands. "I'd like to remind you to watch your mouth while you're at it, too."

"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled, shaking out the mental kinks as I tried to process everything I'd been told so far while she waited silently for me to catch up.

"Okay ... okay, so can we backtrack a bit?" I asked, "Charlie knows about the wolves and there are things I need to know about Charlie and Bella?"

"Yes, there are things you need to know about my family specifically, Jacob. These are the things I'm allowed to tell you now. You've heard the stories before about how outraged people were when Quil and I married?"

"Yeah, people were still pretty ignorant and racist back then, I guess."

"Don't fool yourself, Jacob. People are still ignorant and racist now," she snapped, then lowered her eyes in apology. "Forgive me. It's still a sore spot. I spent many years keeping a low profile on the reservation and barely showing my face in Forks at all, so much so that even my own niece thinks I'm dead."

I started to interrupt, but she cut me off, "No, she can't know yet. It isn't time."

I huffed, but kept quiet while she continued, "Have you ever considered why my Quil married outside the tribe?"

"You're his imprint. The spirits chose you. It's not for us the question why-"

"Bullshit. I'm _not_ his imprint, Jacob Black. Weren't you listening?" she cut me off, frustrated.

I raised my eyebrows at her language and tried to keep the mocking smirk off my face.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look. My house, my rules, and I'm an adult. I'll swear a blue streak if I want to," she griped. She waved her hands, "Ignore the imprint nonsense for a moment and ask yourself 'why was Quil drawn to a no name, pale face girl from Forks instead of a pedigreed, blue blood native girl from an old Quileute family?'"

I thought it over and offered the only suggestion I could come up with, "You brought something to the gene pool that the tribe was lacking at the time?"

She nodded.

"Something important?" I hedged.

She nodded again.

"Something that is passed down in your family?" I calculated the possibilities and offered another wild guess, "Something that Charlie and Bella inherited, too?"

"Bella, more so than Charlie, but, yes," she answered.

"There are a lot of things about Bella that make her different from other humans, even different from the imprints," I reasoned. "She's not afraid of werewolves. The imprints love the warrior, but keep a healthy distance from their wolf because of what happened to Emily. Bella loves my wolf, in fact, and sometimes inexplicably speaks Quileute to him even though she doesn't understand more than a dozen or so words in the entire language. She dated a vampire. She said the Cullens told her she smelled better than most humans and Deadward told her she smelled so good, she was like his own personal brand of heroine, the creeper. She talks in her sleep, has dreams that tell her things or help her figure things out. That's how she figured out the secret about the vampires and the pack-"

"These dreams are already manifesting? You know this for a fact?" Molly jumped on that piece of information with a tone of awed disbelief.

"Yeah, they scare her sometimes, so she tells me when I lay down with her to help her get back to sleep. She worries less about me when she tells me, so I can worry with her. I don't worry, though. I'm just more careful," I replied apologetically.

She nodded, but didn't elaborate on her interest in Bella's dreams.

I picked up where I left off, "Umm … so she has the dreams. She's intuitive in a way that most humans aren't. She knows when she's being watched even if she doesn't hear a sound. She said the mind-reading leech complained that he couldn't hear her thoughts and she was able to fight off the effects of the empathic bloodsucker. It was difficult, but she did it when he tried to relax her and put her to sleep. The psychic one couldn't always accurately predict her future; there were holes in Bella's future where the leech was blinded. Bella thinks it was because there were the times when she didn't want the psychic to be able to see her future, when she wanted to keep it a secret, like she was blocking her. Bella's like, leech-resistant or something."

It was Molly's turn to sit and stare with her mouth hanging open, "You're saying this is all fact? It has happened already? She's got an immunity to supernatural creatures?"

"I guess so. Doesn't stop the leeches from thinking she's delicious. It's scary. It's like they know she's immune to supernatural influences and it makes her more irresistible to them."

I stopped, realizing what I'd just said, "That's why they're all after her, isn't it? The thing she gets from you? The immunity? If she was turned-" my arms shook as I fought back the urge to phase at the thought of a leech biting my Bella, "If she was turned, she'd be some kind of super vampire, immune to the gifts of other vamps, no matter how gifted they are?"

Molly nodded, the sad smile on her face again, "It's both blessing and curse. Your brothers complain bitterly about protecting her**—**the leech lover, but what they don't know is that she's one of you. Bella, Charlie, and I may not look it, but we're all part-Quileute."

"But how? Does Bella know?"

"She knows she has a distant Quileute relative, besides me, but she thinks I'm only a member of the tribe because I married into it."

"Which family are you descended from?" I asked, thinking it had to be a name that had long since died out as the tribe's membership shrank.

"One of the oldest; we are direct descendants of the oldest daughter of Taha Aki and his third wife, Nayeli. Hach'libiti is the daughter from which our line came."

"You know the Third Wife's name?"

"I know many things your father does not, Jacob Black."

"The Third Wife was literally named 'Beloved' and her daughter was … " I racked my brains, trying to draw the translation from memory, "'Great Strength'?"

"Something like that," she agreed.

"Why hasn't this been passed down through the generations like the story of the wolves and the cold ones?"

"You remember the story of the origin of the spirit wolves?"

I nodded.

"You remember then that the practice of spirit walking was strictly forbidden after the incident that befell Taha Aki?"

"Yes, spirit walking was deemed too dangerous a practice for the warriors. The shared mind and body of the phase was safer for the warriors and for the tribe so that the body of a strong warrior could not be inhabited by the mind of a weaker or unworthy man."

"Yes, that's true, but the practice of spirit walking wasn't given up altogether and those who could do it didn't die out. What I mean is that the practice wasn't lost, Jacob. It was cultivated and developed through the generations by a small, but dedicated group of women who all carried the spirit walking gene, until the female descendants of Hach'libiti had harnessed the spiritual magic of the gift and broadened their gifts to span a wide range of abilities. They had to keep it a secret even within the tribe. Over the millennia, they became known as the Wolf Riders because they had a special affinity with the pack and the wolves in particular. Many of them became marked mates so their gifts would also strengthen the next generation of wolves. They aided the pack when they could without being found out. Spirit walking was still strictly forbidden, even if it had developed into many other strengths that benefitted the tribe."

"How did they harness and strengthen their gifts?" I wondered. If they could do that, the pack might be able to do the same to make our wolves stronger.

Molly cleared her throat delicately, "Ahem. They … Jacob, would you agree that life is the most mysterious and magical thing in the inverse?"

I nodded cautiously.

"And the making of a life one of the most sacred?"

That rang a dim bell, so I nodded again.

"There's a reason why life is so revered by our tribe. Creating a life requires the most sacred and powerful magic of all; the union of a man and a woman."

"You're talking about sex," I blurted out, then clamped a hand over my big mouth as my eyes widened in shock. I just said 'sex' in front of Quil's gran.

She tried to hide her amusement.

She failed.

When she stopped laughing , she explained, "The Wolf Riders intermarried with the pack. The children of the wolves were stronger and healthier, but it was the energy created by the man and woman making those children that made them stronger still."

And … she lost me.

She huffed in annoyance, "It wasn't passing on just the genes that made the next generation of wolves and wolf riders stronger. It was the sex _itself_. The quality, the frequency, the sacred intent poured into the act by the mates acted as a kind of generator to build up more power. There's a reason all the members of the pack are so horny, dear. It's not just because they're all teenagers when they phase. They're driven to build up a surplus of strength and power for the wolves and wolf riders."

What. The. Fuck.

Seriously? Fucking like bunnies would make us stronger?

"Your Bella is a wolf rider, too. She has a very rare combination of several of the spirit walker gifts. She is easily the strongest and most powerful wolf rider born since the practice went underground two millennia ago."

"How do you know that?!" I gasped.

"The gifts you say she's displaying are only the beginning. She hasn't even gone through the tribulation yet."

"What's the tribulation?" I didn't like the sound of that.

Molly looked like she was choosing her next words carefully, "Several events must happen before she can gain control of her gifts, before they will begin to adapt for her to use them actively rather than passively. They are a series of natural and supernatural events**—**supernatural intercession in the course of her everyday normal human life. It's the price. That much magic and power doesn't come without a price. This is the price we must pay to keep the line of wolf riders alive. We call it the tribulation because it can be painful or difficult. Every wolf rider's tribulation is a little different. I'm sorry, I can't tell you what the events are, but I can warn you about something else. It's the main reason that I brought you here today.

"Bella is, as far as we know, the last remaining wolf rider of child-bearing age to carry the active gene. Young Quil is a carrier of the passive gene. There are no guarantees that he can pass it on to his own daughters some day. It is essential that Bella find a wolf mate with whom she can carry on the line or it will die out with her. My sister and I did our best to carry on, but I wasn't able to give my Quil any surviving daughters and my sister had only one surviving child, Charlie.

"There is more. The raw magic that Bella is capable of harnessing and using to protect humans is limited only by the power she can build. You are an Alpha, or will be, and that makes for a very potent lover, but Bella may need even _more_ because of her potential. We honestly don't know. She may crave the physical release of sacred intercourse with others besides yourself even before the tribulation. She cannot be told why it's happening until after the tribulation begins, in much the same way that you couldn't be told before phasing. Your fear could have prevented the phase if you knew it was coming.

"I brought you here to explain to you that her insatiability, her desperate need for more than one lover, is not a sign that she is not your mate or that she is being unfaithful to you. She will _need_ other lovers to tap into her full potential if she is to endure the tribulation. Her tribulation will be greater because her potential is greater. It will be your job to guard her against those who would judge her unfairly, to support her without question, and to find a way to coexist peacefully with other lovers that she may take and bear children for in addition to those that she bears for you if you do not claim her with your mark."

Hold the fucking phone. Pale face magical granny say what?

"I'm, I'm, uh … let me get this straight, my Bella is going to need to take other lovers in addition to me for the purposes of magical sex and the reason I probably didn't imprint on her is because I need to accept these other lovers and actually encourage her to have sex with other men?"

"Umm … yes and no," Molly answered apologetically.

"Explain," I demanded.

"Not just human men, but possibly one or more of your own pack mates and since your pack is comprised of both men and a woman … " she insinuated as she blushed again.

"Wha … ? Oh. _Oh._" Bella was going to … oh, well then. One of my brothers and maybe my pack sister, too? Maybe this wolf rider thing wasn't _all_ bad news. I grinned, mulling over the possibility of having magical sex with two hot women.

Molly smacked me.

"Ouch!"

"It's spiritual, sacred intercourse, Jacob! Not girl-on-girl porn!"

"Right. Sacred, spiritual," I affirmed with a nod before I got distracted again, murmuring, "Two girls, four breasts-"

"Jacob… "

"Shutting up now."

_✫.¸¸ ._ _✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫_

Want to see the first sneak peek from Little Red & Her Big Bad Wolves? It was released shortly before the holidays for the Tricky Raven Holiday Contest for Authors and Artists. It's called Little Red & Her Big Bad Wolves: A Party of Four and you can read it on Tricky Raven in my new short story collection: Every Dog Has Its Day: An Omnibus of Wolfpack Short Stories

If you enjoyed these sneak peeks of a future project, you'll love my other current works in progress, the short story, Snowed In (for mature audiences-only) and my multi-chapter fic, Yours, Mine, Ours (also for mature audiences-only). Both can be found on Tricky Raven. (Also now available on FFn.)

Thanks for reading and thank you to everyone who voted for me in the **Fandom Choice Awards**! I took **First Place** in the **Best Breakthrough Author: Wolfpack** category for Yours, Mine, Ours! I also contributed several fic reviews to the live results show last night; one for Dragonfly76's crack fic Zombie Apocalypse 101, and another for FarrahB's The Alpha Next Door. Both of them tickle my funny bone in that just-the-right/that's-not-right way and I am one tough nut to crack when it comes to humor in fan fic!

Love you guys! Just a reminder: If you rec one of my fics or see someone else who does, please drop me a line so I can give you/them a shout-out in an upcoming update! I appreciate author-to-author support and I like to do my share whenever and wherever possible! Thanks!

~ChrissiHR


	5. Ch5: Daddy's Girl No More, Anon V-Day

**A/N: **_This was my entry for Tricky Raven's anonymous Valentine's Day contest, Book of Love, and it's my Valentine to all of you, my wonderful, patient readers! _

_Oh, and I tied for first place! Thank you to everyone who read all the wonderful stories and voted! Second place was a tie, too! There were some really wonderful stories in the contest! You can check them out by visiting the main page on Tricky Raven and clicking the link to the Book of Love group page._

_I know many of you are waiting for an update on my deliciously smutty short story, Snowed In. I've had a little writer's block lately but I am working on it! Finished the first of several lemons for Part V this week, so it is coming along, just a bit slower than I'm accustomed to._

* * *

**Title**: Daddy's Girl No More

**Pairing**: Michael Newton/Bella Swan/Jacob Black

**Rating**: T/PG-13

**Genre**: Historical Romance/Angst

**Prompt**: "My Boyfriend's Back" by The Angels (and a little of "I Will Follow Him" by Little Peggy March)

**Disclaimer:**_All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Theme: Young Love, Word Count: 4727_

* * *

_He's been gone for such a long time, _

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_Now he's back and things'll be fine, _

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_You're gonna be sorry you were ever born, _

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_Cause he's kinda big and he's awful strong,_

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

~"My Boyfriend's Back" by The Angels~

* * *

**Daddy's Girl No More**

Bella finished straightening her ponytail and ran her hands down the front of her teal blue boatneck sweater. She'd paired it with a teal and grey-striped circle skirt for the Dip and Dance Michael was taking her to at the school that night. It had been so long since she'd seen her boyfriend. She hoped he liked this shade of blue on her. He'd always loved her in blue.

She tapped her foot to the melodious voice of Bobby Darin on the radio crooning one of her favorites, "Beyond the Sea". She was tempted to sing along. Knowing she'd be seeing her sweetheart soon made her heart feel light, but she was nervous about the evening and whether the two of them could pull this off. She couldn't bear to separated from him any longer and she knew the suffering for him was twice as terrible, compounded by worry such as it was.

Her father had the best of intentions, she knew, but he'd gone about this all the wrong way. Now, he was escalating the situation by forcing her to spend time with that handsy jerk, Michael Newton, on top of everything else. Charlie thought so highly of the Newtons, with Mr. Newton owning one of the most prosperous businesses in town and Mrs. Newton, that gossipy old hag, on every committee, club, and ladies auxiliary in the county.

Her father craved that kind of normalcy for her own sake, but they would never be the Newtons. They were just them, the Swans, just the two of them since Bella was a baby and her mother had taken off with her younger lover, that no-account Phil Dwyer. 'A baseball player!' Charlie had railed. He'd sworn he'd never listen to another game on the radio, but Bella caught him at it sometimes anyway.

Now he was foisting her off on that no-good Newton boy all the time and it made Bella seethe. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to make her forget her love, her sweetheart; pushing her at Michael constantly, hoping she'd see something in the boy he'd chosen for her—the one he found _respectable_. Well, it would never happen. She would make certain of that.

She took a bracing breath and reminded herself that Michael was her ticket out of this house and out from under the ever watchful eyes of her father. Whatever it took to be with her sweetheart, she would do. She turned around and looked over the items stacked in neat piles on her bed. She was only taking a week's worth of basics for now. She needed to travel light. It was going to be difficult as it was trying to get the overlarge satchel out of the house past her father. In truth, if she were just going to the Dip and Dance, she wouldn't need more than what she was wearing and a swimsuit with a towel in a beach tote if she and Michael decided to take a dip in the school pool with some of the others during the dance to cool off.

Bella had no intention of wasting precious space on a swimsuit, though. She packed sturdy, serviceable clothes and shoes and one good dress. If everything went according to plan, she would probably need that dress sooner rather than later. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth at the thought of the occasion for which she intended the pretty robin's egg blue dress. She shook her head and reminded herself this was no time for wool-gathering. She needed her wits about her if she was to get through the night.

She finished packing the small satchel, arranging things so it looked like she just had a jacket on top of her swimming things in the bag in case she got chilly later.

Bag packed, she looked around her room, wondering if there was anything else she should take just in case she couldn't return for a long while. There were two small, silver-framed photos on her nightstand that caught her eye; one of she and her father at her Sweet Sixteen party, and one of she and her sweetheart, playing together on First Beach when they were little. Her mother had taken that picture. She kept it turned away from the door, so her father wouldn't notice it and take it away. She snatched it off the table and tucked it safely into her bag between two blouses.

She heard the sound of Michael's noisy second-hand convertible rumble up the street towards her house and rolled her eyes.

Honestly, who drives a convertible in Washington where it rains 350 days a year? That boy didn't have the sense of a peahen.

Still, he was providing an excellent ruse to cover her escape. She had to be grateful for that.

She snatched up the sheer pewter grey scarf on her dressing table and tied it around the base of her ponytail to keep the short ends from coming loose later during her getaway.

At the brisk knock on the front door, she squared her shoulders, assuming a false, but bright smile and went to meet her destiny.

* * *

Charlie and Michael were chatting amiably in the living room when she descended the stairs carefully in her well-loved black and white saddle shoes. As a born-clumsy girl, Bella knew well she must take her time tonight or risk ruining her plans if she became injured before _He_ arrived.

Her father looked on with pride, complimenting her smoothly, "You look lovely, tonight, Bella Marie, a real credit to your Grandmother Swan."

"Thank you, Daddy," she replied with forced cheerfulness and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Thankfully, Charlie wasn't the type to look much below the surface unless he had a good reason to. He may have been the Chief of Police, but he tended to trust a bit too easily, a trait that frequently came back to haunt him—Bella's mother being the best case in point.

Michael was all but bouncing in place, an eager golden retriever barely held back by his collar, just waiting his turn to slobber all over her, "Evening, Bella! All ready to go then?" He pointed to her bag and Charlie looked at it suspiciously.

Michael caught his look and saved her from having to stutter through a lie, "Never worry, Chief Swan! I'll keep a keen eye on her tonight in the pool. No mishaps, I promise!"

"Pool?" Charlie asked.

Bella dropped her eyes demurely and offered the simplest explanation she could that wouldn't force her to tell an outright lie to her father, "It's a Dip and Dance, Daddy. I can change when I get there. I have a jacket for later as well, in case I'm a bit damp when we head out after." She failed to mention which _we_ she was referring to, but otherwise, she thought she did a bang up job of not actually lying.

Charlie's mustache twitched slightly, as if he were annoyed that she'd failed to mention she was going out in a bathing suit that barely covered more than her underthings, but, in the end, he let it go for fear of being the only father in town who hadn't let his daughter go to the Dip and Dance. Surely if the school was sponsoring it, it must be on the up and up, plenty of chaperones and all, so he relented, "Very well. Be sure to have her home no later than ten o'clock, Michael."

Michael's face blanched, "Umm, but sir, there's going to be a bonfire after. Some of us were going to go down to First Beach-"

"No! I don't want my Bella anywhere near La Push. You hear me, boy?"

Michael gulped and tried to swallow past the terror that had lodged in his throat, "Y-y-yes, s-sir! We'll come straight home, right after the dance."

"See that you do," he said, then called out to her, holding an arm out, "Bella?"

She knew what was expected of her, even if it was just for show for Michael's sake. (The Newtons were all terrible gossips.) She moved under her father's arm and wrapped her hands lightly around his waist, giving him what she knew could be the very last hug they ever shared. She tried to mean it, but she felt hollow inside—worried for her sweetheart, worried about the perilous situation she now found herself in. She desperately wanted to love her father like she once had, but his attitude about the current state of affairs had become untenable and he'd forced her to choose.

Choose, she had. Her boyfriend was coming back for her. She would follow him to the ends of the earth if that was what he asked.

* * *

Bella thought she would go mad if she had to slap Michael Newton's hands away from her rear one more time before the night was over. They'd been at the dance for more than an hour and her sweetheart was nowhere to be seen. She was beginning to worry, but she couldn't let her guard down or become lax or less vigilant about keeping Michael at bay. She suspected someone had spiked the punch. He was more determined than ever to grab her wherever he could. She swore he'd grown six spare arms in the hour and a half since he picked her up at home, all of them intent on one goal—grabbing her derriere.

She kept him firmly at arms' length to avoid his slobbering mouth, but she couldn't do much about his wandering hands without letting go, which would only give him room to get closer. She wriggled uncomfortably away from one wandering hand, barking a sharp reprimand that had little effect.

She was getting desperate, almost on the verge of slapping the groping lecher when she felt a familiar searing warmth next to her hand on Michael's shoulder. She peered around his big, bucket-head into the amused and somehow equally annoyed eyes of Leah Clearwater.

"Oh, thank goodness," she whispered, her shoulders sagging in relief.

Leah smirked and asked in a put-on simpering voice for Michael's benefit, "May I cut in?"

Bella nodded enthusiastically, stepping back to allow the black-clad, native bombshell to take her place. Leah was stunning in the raven's black—an off-the shoulder sweater that was tighter than anything Bella had ever dared to wear in public _or_ private, a slim, satin pencil skirt that hugged her generous curves, and a pair of skyscraper black heels in shiny patent leather. Her hair was pinned with a red silk flower and swept up in a sleek coiffure that bared much of her exquisite caramel shoulders and invited men to their doom.

Leah leaned in close for Bella's sake and whispered, "Rear hallway, by the door to the girls' locker room. Go _directly_ through the girls' locker room. I just checked it and it's clear. He will be waiting for you at the far door. Don't slow down and don't let anyone waylay you. Go." She gave her a firm shove in the direction of the locker room door on the gym side.

"Thank you, Leah," she breathed.

Bella wasted no time, scurrying off the dance floor, avoiding the calls from her friends, asking what was her hurry. She ducked into the locker room, hustling to the far end. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed and ran hard into something pillowy soft and perfumed for her trouble anyway.

"Oof!"

"Ugh! What is your _problem_, Swan?! Watch where you're going!" Lauren huffed indignantly, straightening her too-tight blouse.

Jessica stood at her side, arms crossed over her chest, nodding her head in agreement, her ponytail bobbing crazily, sending the tails of her scarf swaying wildly, "Yeah, _Swan_. What? You decided you're so clumsy you can't even be bothered to _look_ where you're walking anymore? It's just inevitable that you'll fall on your face no matter what, I suppose. Who cares who you take down with you?"

"Oh, for pete's sake! It was an accident. I'm terribly sorry. Didn't mean it," Bella snapped in a mocking voice. "Please excuse me. I have someone else I need to hurry off and _maim_ with malicious intent."

Lauren and Jessica were shocked speechless by the dripping sarcasm in Bella's tone. Neither had ever heard her speak so sharply to a classmate, much less stand up for herself. They stepped aside under the threat of her lethal gaze.

Bella rushed past them to the rear locker room door, pushing it open carefully and looking about for her savior. The hallway was dark and she cringed back, unsure whether to proceed.

Just as she took a cautious step in retreat, two large hands reached out from the darkness to her left.

Two blazing hot hands.

She sighed in relief, finally able to really breathe for the first time in days.

"Jacob," she whispered, leaning into the reassuring succor of his embrace. The soft leather of his jacket and the comfortably-worn cotton of his black T-shirt made her feel like she'd finally come _home_. "Thank goodness. I was so worried."

"So was I, honey," he murmured, tightening his hold, brushing his lips across her temple as he ran soothing hands up and down her back. She was trembling and he was upset that he hadn't been there every moment that she'd needed him. He felt it, through the imprint bond. His father, also imprinted, had tried to warn him how hard any kind of separation could be. He finally understood what was really at stake.

He lowered his head to her shoulder and felt bare skin. Opening his eyes, he took in her ensemble, his hungry gaze lingering momentarily on the pronounced curves beneath her thin sweater, "You look beautiful, as always, Bells. You know how I love it when you wear blue. It makes you look even more fair—if that's possible."

"I wore it for you," she breathed, standing on her tip-toes to brush her petal-soft lips over his. She brought a tiny, fluttering hand up self-consciously to pluck at the wide neckline of her sweater, feeling warm and a little wild this close to her Jacob. The sweater bared her neck and throat almost to the curve of each shoulder. It really was quite daring for her.

"I can tell. You know what it does to me—the sight of your beautiful neck and shoulders. The wolf, too," he growled, nipping at the long ivory column of her throat.

She tipped her head in submission, allowing him another moment as she whimpered, "Your wolf, too?"

"Always, my Bells. The wolf loves every part of you, but especially…" his fingers traversed the bared expanse of smooth, pale flesh above her sweater, caressing her delicate collar bones with his heated fingertips, raising goosebumps that raced across her shoulders, "...your beautiful, kissable throat." His hot breath billowed over her chilled skin as he pressed his plump, dusky lips to her pulse there.

She shivered in anticipation.

"It's not safe here, Bells. Too many people," he reminded her in a murmur, his hot breath tickling her ear as he scanned the hallway and the locker room beyond, his eyes never ceasing their search for the evil that lurked in dark corners and down shadowy hallways.

"How- how do you know it's not safe?" she stuttered uncertainly, her ardor cooling as she clutched him tighter and tucked her head into his warm, solid chest.

"The young girl, Claire, the one Quil imprinted on from the Makah rez? Her parents were found dead earlier today. Claire was out with Emily and didn't return before they were found by a neighbor, thank the spirits. We think the coven has found our weakness. We think they're going after the imprints. Bella… " his voice trailed off and he pulled her back, biting his lip and looking at her hesitantly. "You're not safe here. I did what I had to do. I'm sorry it took me so long. You were being watched the entire time, I swear, but I had to wait for official approval from council. Even though you're an imprint and eighteen, I'm only sixteen. I had to be sure your place on the rez was secured. They said it _would_ be if-"

He stopped, his arms tightening unconsciously around her.

"If…?" she looked at him expectantly.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reached into his pocket, pulling out something small that fit in the palm of his hand—a tiny black box. "...if you agree to marry me—in a Quileute unity ceremony. We can do the legal deal later, but you have to marry me to reside on the rez." He cleared his throat, "Tonight."

"Oh … Jacob." Her eyes shined with unshed tears as she realized she _would_ get to wear that pretty dress she packed sooner rather than later.

"You don't mind?" Jacob's eyes paced back and forth, watching carefully for her answer first in her beautiful cinnamon eyes, where she couldn't hide the truth of it.

"Mind?" a watery chuckle escaped as she smiled. "No, I don't mind. I'd been hoping… You still haven't asked me, though."

"I will when we get home. I want to do it on tribal land, Bells. Is that okay?"

She understood. The land was important, not just to Jacob's people, but to his family. She knew just where she would have him ask, too, "On the beach, that driftwood log? The one where you kissed me the first time?"

"You read my mind." His grin stretched across his face, ear to ear.

"Hardly, it's just where I'd want you to ask me, too. I love you, you know," she said, nuzzling his throat with her cold little nose. Then, in a whisper, "Take me home, Jacob. Please, take me home."

He couldn't resist such a pretty plea if he wanted to. He whispered in a choked voice, "I love you, too." He pressed his lips to hers tenderly, catching her bottom lip between his in a little nibble from his wolf as well.

"First, I'd like you to- to put the ring on. I'll ask you properly later. I just need to see my mother's ring on you, my mark. You understand?"

_His mother's ring, his mark…_ she thought wonderingly as she nodded and held out her hand, trembling a little as he slipped it over her finger.

"Perfect, like it was made for you." He kissed her knuckle above the ring as she sniffled happily, then asked, "You have a bag?"

He looked her over carefully, wondering if she would be able to ride his bike in that skirt. The only other time she'd been on it, she'd worn an old pair of bib dungarees that she kept at his house to wear when she was working in the shop with him. She'd have to ride in front of him this time, he decided, to keep her skirts out of the rear wheel, and she'd wear his leather jacket for extra protection.

"Yes. This Dip and Dance was especially serendipitous. My father didn't bat an eyelash when I left the house with a bag full of clothes—just a week's worth of the necessities for now. Enough to get by until we can come back for more or I can make some. That's fine, though. I don't need much. I left my bag in the front seat of Michael's car on the floor and left the door unlocked so I could retrieve it easily later."

"We've already taken too long. Leah will only be able to distract Newt for so long."

"Newton," she corrected him absently, running her hands up his firm biceps.

"I _know_ his name, Bells," he rolled his eyes and she smiled. She'd missed his unexpected sense of humor.

He pulled her by the hand down the rear corridor behind the gym toward the side doors, easily avoiding the revelers and a few indistinguishable couples snuggling in dim corners.

"Which one?" he asked when they reached the parking lot.

"The ivory convertible," she pointed it out.

"In Washington?" he snorted in derision, shaking his head in disgust.

"Don't get me started. He's positively ridiculous. It's a good thing I love you. I had to ride here in that- that _thing_**and** I had to fend off his eight wandering tentacles until Leah rescued me. I'll be glad to see the last of Michael Newton," she said as they hurried across the lot. She opened the front passenger door with a quiet snick of the latch and grabbed her bag, handing it off to Embry as he and Quil rolled up silently on a second motorcycle in neutral to keep their departure a secret until the very last second. Embry stashed her bag in the cobbled-together sidecar as Quil hopped out quietly on sneakered feet, his five-and-dime basketball shoes making no noise at all as he ran out back to retrieve Jacob's bike from the rear of the building where he'd coasted in earlier and parked.

Quil reappeared moments later, throwing down the kickstand and climbing off, handing the bike off to Jake, "Ready to go when you are, Boss."

Jake put one black-booted foot on the peg and held out a hand to Bella-

"Not so fast, boys," an authoritarian voice boomed.

The three boys turned their heads as one, their innate pack behavior more difficult to hide from humans when they perceived a threat to an imprint. Bella cringed. She knew the owner of that voice without looking and knew, also, that there was no way this could end well … for her father.

"Just where in Sam Hill do you think you're taking my daughter, Black?" Charlie asked as he hitched up his uniform pants, wiggling his holster a bit threateningly to terrify and intimidate. Too bad for him, werewolves weren't easily intimidated.

"Home, with me," Jacob answered, wrapping an arm around Bella protectively.

"If you think I'm just going to let you take off with daughter, boy, you have another think coming!" Charlie blustered.

"Daddy… " Bella tried to warn him off.

"Don't you '_Daddy'_ me you sneaky little tramp! You're no better than your no-good mother!"

Bella's gasp silenced him as she squared off, stomping her dainty little foot in outrage, "_Tramp?!_ Is _that_ what you think of me? I am _not_ Mama, Daddy! _You_ drove me to this!"

His eyes burned in righteous indignation and he clenched his fists, refusing to take the blame for trying to protect her, to try to keep history from repeating itself.

"And yet, here you are anyway," he jabbed a finger in her direction, "just like her, sneaking off like a thief in the night with some, some-" he waved a hand in the air in wild circles, trying to come up with a word to encompass everything he despised and feared about Jacob Black.

"What, Daddy? What is he that's so terrible?" she demanded, her voice hitching as she choked back her tears.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into here Bella-"

Jacob was seething. "You and I both know that kid was dead long before I ever got near him, thanks to another kind of monster altogether. All I did was keep the demon that possessed his bloodless corpse from mutilating and killing more helpless kids," Jacob hissed low, but plenty loud enough for Charlie's human ears.

"Yeah? Well, from now on you just, just … keep it on the rez, like you're supposed to!" Charlie shouted, angered that Bella wasn't surprised by the boy's revelation and realizing that she must have known all along just what these _boys_ really were under the light of the full moon.

"Yeah? And if I do? You gonna kill the next one by yourself, _Chief_? If that's your plan, you might as well say goodbye to Bells one last time, right here and now."

"She's not going with you!" Charlie's face purpled with rage, knowing what it would mean if she left. The same had happened to his Aunt Molly when Charlie was a boy—just went out to La Push one weekend for a clam dig on the beach and never came home. The family never once spoke of her again after that, but Charlie knew. The one boy standing with Jacob—young Quil—was Charlie's own second cousin.

"Well, she can't stay _here_. _You_ can't protect her. She'd be dead within the week, and the pack would fold under the devastation of their Alpha's lost mate. This is how it _has_ to be," Jacob stated with finality.

"She's meant for better-"

"Daddy!" Bella spoke sharply. "How _dare_ you?! You don't get to decide what's best for me! Don't you do this. Don't you make me choose, because it'll be him. It's always been him. I will follow him to the ends of the earth, Daddy. This is meant to be. The spirits _chose_ me for him. He is my destiny." She wrapped her arms around Jacob, murmuring quietly, "We should go. It's not any safer here than it was earlier, inside. You can lock down the rez. Forks is little better than a hunting ground for those demons now."

"Alpha's mate," Jacob muttered the words with a hint of pride, but so quietly against her temple, she could hardly make them out. She smiled, realizing what he meant by his proud words—she was already putting her tribe's needs first, and thereby, her mate's.

Charlie listened to the cryptic and very grown up exchange between his daughter and the b- _man_ in whose arms she stood for protection. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

Jacob took that as a sign that it was time to go. He lifted Bella up onto the seat of the bike, shielding her from view as she neatly rearranged her skirts to conceal her legs. He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She slid her arms into the sleeves as Jacob swung a leg over the seat behind her. He tucked the trailing hem of her skirts in under his legs, tugging her backwards to fit neatly against his chest, within the sheltering circle of his arms.

"I've got you, but hold on tight, okay?" he warned her, placing her hands inside his on the handlebars.

Charlie moved, making one last-ditch effort to stop them, but Quil barred his way, his big, beefy arms held wide to warn him off, "Chief… _cousin_. Don't do this. You'll drive her away forever."

Jacob kick-started the bike, Embry doing the same as Quil retreated and slid into the sidecar, tucking Bella's bag between his feet securely.

"Jacob!" Charlie shouted desperately over the roar of the bikes.

Jacob ticked up one eyebrow and jerked his chin in response.

"You take care of my girl, you hear?!"

"I always do!" he yelled back, "but she's not _your_ girl anymore!" He clasped Bella's hand in his, raising it to show Charlie his mother's ring on her third finger. "She's mine now!"

Bella blushed to the roots of her hair as Embry and Quil hooted and hollered their congratulations.

Charlie's eyes widened in dismay and he heaved a mournful sob of regret as he watched Jacob Black ride off down Main Street with his baby girl, cocooned in the strong, capable arms of her sweetheart, the Alpha of La Push.

* * *

_I have some ideas for a follow-up to turn this into a two-shot or maybe a short story eventually, if you guys are interested in it. Let me know in the comments, I guess, and I'll make a decision from there. Thanks for reading!_


	6. Ch 6: Chemistry, a B-Day OS

_**Genre: Romance/Mystery**_

_**Rating: M**_

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_Don't forget to check out my interview with Dontcallmeleelee on her blog, Dontcallmeleelee's Mess next Sunday on her blog, too! She makes many of my beautiful fic and chapter banners!_

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**_Preview from Chemistry:_**

She was about to lean out to hiss to him that the coast was clear when he stepped swiftly into the open doorway from her left, right up into her personal space.

"Shit!" she smacked at him, stumbling back. "Why do you have to be such a fucking creeper?"

"Mmm … Is this what _you're_ wearing today?" he asked, a low hum of appreciation rumbling deep in his throat as he fingered the silky material of the bright pink robe.

Forgetting herself for a moment, she angled unconsciously into his touch, practically purring when he slipped his hands inside the lapels and ran them down the gentle curves from breast to hip beneath her robe, "Oh, god, babe. I can't stand it. What is this?"

"Chemistry," he barked, smothering a laugh, dipping his chin to rub the stubble over her bare shoulder as the robe slipped down another inch.

Moaning, she shook with desire in his arms, the pull was so strong, "If you keep touching me like that-"

"We'll both lose our heads," he whispered, his lips a hair's breadth from hers, their foreheads touching in the only show of intimacy they would allow themselves before the diplomas were handed out later that day.

He had just enough willpower to pull back, apologizing, "I'm sorry. Coming here beforehand was a mistake. We-" he cut himself off, swearing. "This is what we agreed to—for both our sakes. I'll-" he sighed reluctantly, whispering, "I'll see you this afternoon."

She grasped just the tips of his fingers as he crossed the threshold in a silent, if all-too-brief farewell. He squeezed them in return and slipped through the door, quietly pulling it to behind him.

Just before he closed it—his eyes trained on the ground to avoid further temptation—he murmured, glancing up at her from beneath lowered lashes, "You look beautiful today. You always do."

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**_You can find this one-shot already posted under its own title on my profile. I opted to post it as a stand-alone due to the extreme M rating for this one._**


	7. Ch 7: Love Potion 9, a B-Day 2S

I've got another little birthday surprise for meliz875! (Have you checked out her Embry/Leah fic, "Hardest of Hearts", yet?)

This one is a two-shot, so it's got it's own group on Tricky Raven and will be a stand-alone fic here on FFn, but as a shorty, it falls under my omnibus, too, so I thought I'd post a preview here as a teaser for what's coming up this weekend. First update should be posted March 1st or 2nd, (this weekend!). It's rated M. You know why. ;)

* * *

Preview:

One would think with all the available shapeshifter manpower that someone other than Bella would have been a better choice for the delicate and stealthy job of swiping Old Quil's 'shine. The problem was that Bella was the only one who knew where he hid his stash in the shed. The others may have been able to sniff it out, but Bella was the only one who knew how to open the hidden compartment without destroying the door and giving away that it had been breached by the world's unstealthiest group of shapeshifting burglars and their crafty human ring-leader.

The one time, weeks earlier, that Bella had 'accidentally stumbled' across Old Quil bottling his secret recipe in the shed, he had mistakenly assumed that she was the good girl he'd never have to worry about and so, hadn't bothered to hide what he was doing while he answered her innocuous questions about some lesser known tribal legends.

Little did he know, she was merely a trojan horse—the pack's unassuming and unlikely advance scout.

As it turned out, Old Quil didn't know his great-niece quite as well as he thought. She was more like Quil the Younger than anyone suspected.

Because, when it came right down to it, Bella could lie. She'd learned all kinds of new skills while she was away at school.

_Hell, thieving the moonshine had been her idea in the first place.__  
_

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If this preview caught your interest, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the two-shot on my profile this weekend and check out my upcoming interview with Dontcallmeleelee on her blog, Dontcallmeleelee's Mess: .com this Sunday! She makes quite a few of my fic and chapter banners these days and they're all gorgeous!

Enjoy!

~ChrissiHR


	8. Ch 8: Together, a Flashfic

For meliz875 ;)

_(For a picture prompt on Tricky Raven - pic is viewable in my wolfpack omnibus on TR.)_

- - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - -

Together

- - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - -

"You can do it," he whispered as he curled forward, wrapping his body around the sweaty, straining back of the exhausted woman in his arms.

She shook, her teeth chattering as a low sob escaped, clawing its way up to a wail.

_Pain with a purpose_, she reminded herself, pushing back, taking comfort from the solid wall of his chest at her back, the strong arms that held her so tenderly, the hands … his hands. Hands that had loved her gently, thoroughly, worshiping her from head to toe as they labored together months earlier, unknowingly creating the life she was laboring so hard now to bring into this world.

"One more push and we'll have the head," the tribal midwife patted her knee, "You're doing so good, sweetheart. Nearly there."

"You hear that, babe? Almost done. You're so strong. You can do this," he reached forward, running his hands over her distended abdomen.

His son.

She tensed, curling around her middle.

"Push, honey!" the midwife cheered, kneeling at their feet, her sure hands ready to help if it was needed.

Threading her fingers through his, she squeezed, bearing down, legs slick with sweat slipping on his thighs beneath her. She dug her toes into the soft mat on the floor.

So close.

She could feel it.

The finish line-holding her baby-was _right there_.

She could practically brush it with her fingertips, she was _that close_.

Pain-a moment of it-so searing, she thought she couldn't possibly survive it.

Then it was done, the pain subsiding. The shaking stopped.

"I have the head," she heard as if through a long tunnel. "One more push."

But no push was needed.

She took a deep breath and breathed her baby into the world.

And just like that, it was done.

A baby was born.

And so was a mother.

The midwife threw her head back, her delighted laughter peeling rich and silvery-cutting through the dark, stormy night as she turned the babe in her arms, swaddling it with a special white blanket, the one her parents had been wrapped in the day they were joined in marriage before the tribe.

She looked down on the baby and turned to face its parents.

"I hope you like surprises because this little one just proved three ultrasounds wrong. Meet your daughter."

"Do you have names picked out?" Sue, the attending nurse-practitioner, asked.

"Bryanna. Bryanna Call," Bella whispered, touching her finger gently to one tiny, pink cheek as Embry reached from behind her back to gather their daughter into their embrace.

"A daughter," he breathed, touching his lips reverently to the skin of her shoulder as they gazed on their little girl for the first time. Together.

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Word Count: 500


	9. Ch: 9 Coming Home, a Flashfic

Rated: T

Pairing: Bella/Jacob

Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort

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_For meliz875. Happy birthmonth, hon!  
_

_Based on a picture prompt that I found for a friend._

_I just couldn't resist fic-ing it myself, too. _

_(FFn readers can check out the pic in my Every Dog Has Its Day group on Tricky Raven. Link can be found on my profile)  
_

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- - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - -

Coming Home

- - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - -

"Make love to me, Jake? This one time?" Bella begged, tears in her eyes. Knowing her time was short, she wanted to make the most of every human moment that remained.

"We could have forever, honey. I'll protect you," he swore, punctuating each whispered promise in the dark with a kiss as he revealed every precious inch of warm pink skin.

They loved one another like it was the last time.

It would have to last for a lifetime.

In the morning, she was gone.

A note on his pillow told the truth. She would protect him and his tribe at any cost even if the price was her own life.

He heard she married the leech with tears in her eyes.

He wondered who those tears were for; him, the leech…

Or for herself.

When the time came, he thought he'd know.

Months passed with no word.

Jake existed, but didn't truly _live_.

Charlie had heard nothing from Bella since the second week of her honeymoon. The Cullens had disconnected every phone line. Every means of communication that Charlie once had with his daughter—gone.

Needless to say, it came as a shock when Jake came home from work one night to find a thick packet of paperwork had arrived in that day's mail, addressed to 'Bella Black'.

He thought it was some sick joke until he called Charlie to let him know Bella had mail delivered to the Black residence under a name not her own.

Charlie insisted Jacob open it. It could be a clue to Bella's whereabouts.

"Okay, okay, let me just-" Jake tapped the tip of a knife laying on the edge of the counter, flipping it neatly into his hand. He sliced open the envelope and shuffled through the contents, not comprehending what he was reading.

"I don't understand. It looks like some kind of legal mumbo-jumbo," Jake murmured, forehead creased in concentration.

"Just read some of it," Charlie insisted.

Jake read, "'This agreement serves as a full and final settlement of all matters of joint concern-'"

"What are the names on the paper, Jake?" Charlie sounded excited.

"Bella Marie Swan-Cullen and Edward Anthony Masen Cullen," Jake growled. "Why?"

"It's a final notice of a divorce settlement. She left Edwin," Charlie whispered.

"She left-" Jake's question was interrupted by the sound of a car door. "Hang on, Charlie. Someone's here."

He stretched the phone cord so he could stay on the line as he flipped on the inside light and swung the door open.

He gaped in shock, choking on air.

"Jake? Who's there?" Charlie demanded.

Standing on the stoop, wet hair plastered to her forehead, hands clasped over a belly round with a child enveloped in a cloud of his own Alpha scent, stood Bella Swan.

He reached out to brush a fingertip over her hand, checking for warmth.

"I'm sorry it took us so long," she whispered, placing his hand on her belly over their child.

"What?" he asked in wonder as a tiny foot kicked his palm.

"Coming home."


	10. Ch 10: The Siren, a Flash-story Preview

**A/N:** _This is a sneak peek for a little series of flashfics that I'm working on. They were inspired by a writing prompt provided by my awesome pre-reader meliz875. (You can view the prompt on the group page on Tricky Raven when it's posted.) There will be seven swains, seven chapters, and each chapter will be exactly 1000 words because I wanted to challenge myself to write a short short story with true limitations. So, minus a few spare words for author's notes and such, the story itself will come in at exactly 7000 words—good, bad, or ugly—when we reach the end._

_A reminder: **The Tricky Raven 2nd Annual Silent Auction** is still underway and has not quite reached its goal yet. There is still time to donate and bid! You can bid on yours truly, of course, or another author who strikes your fancy, but do so quickly as time is running out!_

* * *

**A Good Fellow**

She ran, but as it always ended, the dream brought her up short in the meadow—never fast enough, never smart enough, never quite _enough_ to keep up, outwit, or anticipate her long-lost Edward.

Never good enough.

She sobbed in her dream and in the waking world as well—a lamenting cry of anguish heard by the wolven protector stationed outside her home—her longing for something unnameable.

"_Desire._"

Bella spun in the direction of the voice, her luxurious, mahogany hair whipping around her in a silky fan as she sought the origin of it in her dream.

"_To be the object of it, passion's fire_," he spoke again—a crooning lilt.

There, on the far side of the meadow stood a man, or perhaps a boy. He was of average stature with a slim build and wild auburn hair. As he approached, she noted the peaked tips of two pointed ears poking through the messy curls rioting around his face and neck.

Dressed simply, he wore a pair of leather leggings similar to what her Quileute friends wore for special ceremonies on the rez. The strap of a shabby satchel crossed his chest. In his bag, he tucked a small handmade pan flute—worn with years of use and obviously well-loved.

She demanded in a rush, "Who are you?"

"_Robin Goodfellow is my name-_"

"Puck!" she spat the moniker she knew.

He smirked and bowed, "_The very same._"

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_**E/N:** I only have three chapters left to complete today. Not sure when I'll start posting, but I guarantee it will be complete before I post the first chapter. No more new works in progress until Snowed In or LP9 are complete, I promise. ~Chrissi_


	11. Ch: 11 The Making of Me, a Flashfic

Rated: T

Pairing: Mystery Reveal

Genre: Family/Comfort

Words: 526 or so, I think. I didn't keep the best count this time. I got close. I'm happy with the story. I'm leaving it as is.

Origin: Tricky Raven's Weekly Drabble Challenge, Prompt #3. (You can see the quote picture prompt in the Every Dog Has Its Day group on Tricky Raven.)

**A/N:** _I know, I know. I'm still on a weird baby kick. So sue me. My biological clock IS. TICKING. LIKE. THIS. (Even though my baby days are long over.) I wrote this one for Mel for her big birthmonth party (also because of ongoing TW sadness)._

**The Making of Me**

My parents told me the story one time. How they got together, what kept them together. I'm still not sure how much of it I believe.

Werewolves?

In Washington?

But here I am and here they are and they look way younger than all my friends' parents. There's no denying that.

Dad finally asked her out after Uncle Jake and Uncle Quil caught wind of his infatuation with Mom in the pack mind.

They asked if she was his imprint, but he never said. Told me it was none of their damn business. I had to laugh at that. Dad doesn't swear, but his brothers bring out all his bad habits.

Anyway, they went out one Friday night, Dad and Mom. It was awkward. He was painfully shy and worshipped the ground she walked on. She'd been burned before and serious relationships made her skittish, like a deer.

Nothing doe-like about Mom now.

Determined to make it work, they decided one more date wouldn't hurt, but decided to keep it casual. They went to a bonfire with the pack the next night.

Somebody—Mom won't say who and Dad just grins and smirks when Mom clams up—broke into Old Quil's stash and the pack got pretty wild.

Dad and Mom never made it home that night. When they retell the story, they only ever say 'at least we made it to the woods'.

The thought of it makes me shudder. Have I sat in that spot? Ugh.

Six weeks later, they'd gone on a few more dates and were becoming good friends. They decided to put on the brakes a little after the incident with the moonshine. Slow things down. No need to rush when you're young and you have your whole life ahead of you—futures to plan, right?

Right.

Sometimes, though, even the best laid plans go awry.

Six weeks and three days after their first date, Mom got sick. Really sick. Dad freaked out. He and Uncle Jake took her to the clinic. She puked non-stop for two days before they got it under control. Tribal doctors had to be let in on the secret because they couldn't be sure if it was due to the wolf gene. Dad was beside himself.

Eventually, the doctor got a handle on mom's illness, treating her symptoms and working to find a cause.

He entered the waiting room the day after Dad brought her to the clinic and asked the pack to clear out for an hour or so. He needed to speak to his patient alone and she was entitled to privacy. Jake gave the order and it was done.

An hour later, Dad stood at the front desk, cautiously optimistic as he asked the receptionist if he could see Mom. She waved him through.

Mom sat on the bed, tears streaking down her face. She looked up as Dad entered.

His breath caught, terrified that her news was bad.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered, a tremulous smile lighting up her face.

Dad's smile lit up the world and Mom knew it would be okay.

That's my story. The making of me, Harry Call.


End file.
